


A New Leaf

by BromeliadDreams



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23648548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BromeliadDreams/pseuds/BromeliadDreams
Summary: Zolf's awkward romance book club gains a new member. For once, there is a moment of quiet.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan & Zolf Smith
Comments: 12
Kudos: 22
Collections: Rusty Quill Gaming Exchange 2020





	A New Leaf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SketchCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SketchCat/gifts).



The rain has stopped for once, and the night is quiet and still. Zolf moves through the inn, tidying away the detritus of the day, an old, restless habit that he can’t quite let go of. Most of the others have gone to bed, though there’s still a light on in Wilde’s room. Zolf files that information away to worry about later.

In the entrance to the inn’s back room, he pauses. There’s a single oil lamp still burning, illuminating the far corner of the room. In its pool of light, Hamid sits curled up on a cushion, completely absorbed in the book in his hands. It’s difficult to make out across the dimly lit space, but Zolf’s almost certain he recognises the cover.

Hamid catches sight of him hovering in the doorway and smiles, holding up the book. “You caught me.”

“Is that my copy of _Notes on a Sandal_?” Zolf demands, not sure whether he’s annoyed or delighted.

“Azu lent it to me,” Hamid says. He gestures for Zolf to join him.

“How far in are you? Have you got to the bit where-- oh no, that’s a spoiler. Er, the bit where _a certain person_ returns?” Zolf leans in to see over Hamid’s shoulder and Hamid obligingly angles the book towards him.

“I don’t think so?”

“Ah, no, you’ve only just met Lady Adelaide, so I guess you’ve got a few chapters to go. But just, the way he does that scene is-- Honestly, it might be my favourite part of any of his books? Just, the characters-- And the writing is--” Zolf coughs. “Yeah. Anyway. How are you finding it? I remember you didn’t used to be a Campbell fan.”

“It’s actually really--” Hamid breaks off and Zolf watches as he considers and discards several adjectives. “Engaging,” he settles on. “Azu said I might like this one, because it’s got that opera production sub-plot? Which, I’m not convinced Mr Campbell has been to any really _good_ operas, but he’s definitely captured the drama of it all.”

This is the most effusive Hamid has ever been about a Harrison Campbell novel, and it’s almost enough to soothe the hurt that Zolf feels upon hearing that it’s _Azu_ Hamid goes to for book recommendations.

Hamid sighs. “You weren’t meant to find out I was reading it ‘til I was done.”

“What? Why not? You’re welcome to keep my copy ‘til you’re done with it, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Honestly, it’s taking Zolf considerable willpower not to shower Hamid in copies of _other_ Campbell books he might like, at this point.

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant. I mean, I probably shouldn’t have borrowed your copy without asking, so, er, sorry about that. But it was meant to be a surprise!” Zolf looks at him, nonplussed. “I mean, you like them so much, and we-- we haven’t really talked since, well, _everything_ , at least not about anything that’s not, you know, _saving the world_ , and I just thought it would be… nice, to be able to talk about books or something.”

There’s a lump in Zolf’s throat that’s making conversation on any subject rather difficult right now. “Er, that’s, um. That’s. Very thoughtful of you,” he manages.

“I tried before, on the airship,” Hamid confesses, “but, well, there was a lot going on, and then you…”

“Left,” Zolf says, the word falling heavy into the quiet room.

“Yes. And I think-- I think I understand a bit more why you had to do that, and I don’t blame you, but it-- But now you’re here, and I _missed you_ , so I thought…”

“Romance book club?”

“Yeah.” Experimentally, Zolf shuffles closer and bumps his shoulder against Hamid’s. Hamid looks up and gives him a wobbly smile. “Sorry. I thought that having the book to talk about would stop things getting so emotional. I know you don’t really like that.”

“Eh. Working on it,” Zolf admits. “Look, I’m… really touched? Is that a thing people say? But you don’t have to read a book you hate just to talk to me.”

“I know. But I’m starting to see the appeal of happily ever afters, these days.”

“ _Right?_ If there’s one thing you can guarantee with a Campbell novel, it’s that Love Interest A will end up with Love Interest B--”

“Apparently via C and D on the way,” Hamid interjects.

“Yeah, OK, fair enough. But _things work out_ , right? It’s-- I dunno, it’s just something I need reminding of at the moment. Real life doesn’t have happy endings. Yeah, you can be happy for now, but if you keep going, sooner or later, the only guaranteed ending is death. Unless you reunite on the astral plane or something, I dunno. But in fiction, you can stop the story and wrap it up all neat and tidy and just… keep it.” Zolf realises he’s cupping his hands, as though the story is something precious he can hold.

Hamid nods. “I keep trying to remember that no one knows they’re going to get a happy ending when they’re in the middle of the worst parts. They just have to keep on doing their best, and hope it all works out somehow.”

“Yeah.” Zolf sighs. “Feels hard to do, sometimes.” 

“I know what you mean.”

They’re silent for a little while, listening to the gentle sigh of the wind outside, the sound of muffled footsteps further off in the inn. Hamid looks down at the book in his hands, which he holds as though it’s a priceless manuscript. The cover is a tasteful lavender and features a couple dressed in artfully positioned wisps of fabric. Hamid bites his lip.

“Look, you don’t have to pretend like they’re great literature or anything,” Zolf says hastily, before Hamid can speak.

“I wasn’t going to say anything!” Hamid protests. “Only… It’s set in Vienna. In _winter_. Aren’t they cold? Or do they both turn out to be dragons or something?”

“Now what sort of hack reveal would that be?” Zolf asks. “Dragons, Hamid? _Honestly_.”

Hamid gives him a shove, but he’s grinning, the lamplight catching a faint brass gleam around his eyes. It’s not the only change Zolf’s noticed since Prague. Hamid’s… _sharper_ now, at times almost gaunt. Gods know, Zolf’s changed too, but what took months and months for him seems to have crystallised in just a few weeks for Hamid, and the strain comes through sometimes, beneath his ever-impeccable outward appearance. 

Zolf sighs. He’s not _good_ at physical affection, not in the easy way Hamid and Azu are, but… “C’mere?” He wraps an arm round Hamid’s shoulders. Hamid stiffens, momentarily caught off guard, then returns the hug, shuffling in to rest his head on Zolf’s shoulder. “Thank you,” Zolf mutters. “For the book thing. And-- Lots of things, really. I’m glad you’re here.”

Hamid’s arms tighten briefly around Zolf. “‘M glad you’re here too,” he mumbles into Zolf’s shoulder.

“And, look, if you really hate the book, don’t tell me, but otherwise I’m _dying_ to know what you make of the Duke of Atholl. I kept hoping someone would shove him in an orchestra pit or something, but…”

As the inn settles deeper into the drowsy darkness, Hamid draws breath to begin what promises to be a lengthy list of grievances.


End file.
